|
I met an old friend this morning |
|
And I stopped him and called him by name |
|
I said, "The years haven't changed you |
|
But he said, "Good Lord, how you've changed!" |
|
So we stood there and talked on the corner |
|
And remembered the good times we had |
|
Then he asked if we're happy together |
|
And I only smiled and I said |
|
"Yes, she keeps me off the streets |
|
And she keeps me out of trouble |
|
Sometimes at night, Lord, when I hear the wind |
|
I wish I was crazy again, yes, I wish I was crazy again" |
|
Then we stopped in at a tavern |
|
We had us a round or two |
|
We called ourselves old desperado's, old desperado's |
|
As old friends are likely to do |
|
We sat for a while and remembered |
|
Then he said, "Let's have just one more" |
|
I said, "I'd sure like to join you |
|
But best be goin' on home" |
|
"Yes, she keeps me off the streets |
|
She keeps me off the streets" |